The Conflict
by lefranco
Summary: [AU Setting] She's a journalist trying to uncover the biggest story of the decade. He's a Special Forces soldier, constantly trying to save her from it.
1. Chapter 1

**She's a journalist trying to uncover the biggest story of the decade. He's a Special Forces soldier, constantly trying to save her from it.**

**A/N: I'm loosely basing this story off the Syrian conflict at the moment – now I emphasise **_**loosely, **_**because I don't want this to actually happen but it was an idea that popped into my head quite recently (also I don't want to get in trouble, eep!). **

**I've changed names of Presidents etc to ensure that this is just a **_**story, **_**because I will be changing a few things. Also my knowledge of Army protocol is very limited – so don't kick me in the butt for a couple of errors! I tried! Also there is a LOT of very, scary and confronting material in here so just beware.**

**Also this chapter is a lot of explaining, so it's very wordy and it takes a bit to get to any Fabrevans moments. I apologise, but please, stick around!**

**Chapter 1**

I knew there was possibly something wrong with me, because who actively thinks it's a smart idea to join the Army and then progress through to make Special Forces. Yeah, my mother wasn't too happy with the idea, but I was proud of the thought of being a true patriot – as fucking corny as it sounds. It made me feel like I had a purpose, that I was truly doing something to help people and that made me believe that I could do anything. But when good ol' President Erickson pulled us out of Iraq, I wasn't sure how I'd cope with the idea of going home – not that I wasn't grateful for it. Home to me was leaving it at age seventeen, a bag of clothes over my shoulder and leaving behind a family that never truly understood me. I'd dreamt of being in the army ever since I could remember, films like Empire of the Sun or Black Hawk Down started something in my bones that my parents never understood. My mum was a teacher and Dad was an engineer at a car company, so I guess that idea of something radical like the army wasn't really in their to do list, per se.

When the call came from himself, President Erickson, asking me, Samuel J. Evans during meal time at the family Evans home to come back to Fort Bragg, North Carolina for a briefing, I jumped and sprinted up to my room to get me there as soon as possible. The goodbyes were hideous, as usual, mum was a blubbery mess and dad was so choked up, his voice was barely audible, but it was sweet and pretty nice to have them think that much of me. My brother and sister, Stacey and Stevie, both thought that what I was doing was pretty sweet so thank god they didn't make too much of a fuss when I finally was out of the house.

It was only about an hour and fifteen minute plane ride, which had me trying to understand what on earth could be happening that they'd need me back at Fort Bragg, which was the American Army's Special Forces Unit's Headquarters. I only had a few months left till I actually had to go back here, so it must be something urgent that requires a number of military personal back. When I finally got there, I met up with my old Alpha Company buddies who were already huddled around the small TV in the living room, watching what seemed to be a baseball game where the Giants were smashing the Dodgers. Puck, a mad LA Dodgers fan, who had a classic Mohawk – don't ask me how he managed to sneak that past our company commander - was almost on the verge of tears as the Dodgers were almost about to call the game.

"Giants winning?" I call out, walking past him with a small grin and wasn't surprised that all I received back was the lovely almost middle finger. Puck had broken his other fingers in the middle of an insurgent fight back in Iraq a couple of tours back. He didn't feel the pain of course, since he's a tough bastard, but he didn't realise they were pretty messed up till we got back to HQ… five days later. He ruined his pinky and his ring finger, almost proving impossible to bend them and the only thing Puck was grateful for was that it wasn't his trigger hand.

Then we have Finn Hudson, and not to doubt Finn's abilities, but we've all wondered how he managed to get to Special Forces. We're all around the same age, me being the youngest at twenty-three, while Puck is the eldest at twenty-five, with the rest of us scattered in between – only in our company of course. Far as I know, Finn's somewhere in that bracket, but with the maturity of a ten year old and I've always wondered how he managed to slide in here. He's smart, to a degree. He's street smart and always quite intelligent as to what to do when there's a firefight with insurgents, but when we're back at base talking about… well, the only thing we find common ground on, _the ladies, _he's a bit dumbfounded. Of course, it doesn't really help that he's almost as tall as a tree and has a goofy look on his face seventy percent of the time, compared to Puck's terrifying demeanor. We all are pretty grateful for his presence, as much as it doesn't sound like it, even though ninety percent of the time we have to tell him to shut up about the new Call of Duty game he rambles on about.

Then there's Mike Chang our Engineer Sergeant. Forgot to mention earlier that Puck looks after our weapons, Finn does communications and I'm the Medical Sergeant. Mike Chang is gifted with anything and I once saw him create a small bomb out of an electric toothbrush, scary shit. He's pretty quiet, but not when we're in battle and he knows exactly when he's needed. Once we tried to get him on a date with a very, very lovely looking Arabian woman, who turned out to be… a very, very lovely looking Arabian man. That was definitely a night to remember and we never let him forget it.

Of course there are twelve men in our "Operational Detachments-A" or commonly known as "A-Teams", but these three guys are the ones I've mainly grown close to. So of course, we're all sitting down watching the Dodgers admit defeat before our Captain and Commander walk through the door with clearly unimpressed looks on their faces. Puck, naturally not being the one for detail, wails as the Dodgers finally call the end of the innings causing the whole room to erupt in snickers.

"Sergeant First Class Puckerman." Captain Schuester announces and Puck halls himself to his feet, bright red and completely embarrassed. Hudson and I share a glance, both trying to hold back our chuckles.

"I know as appalling as the Dodgers are, we have a mission." Puck swallows, nodding and I glance around the room to see who's been called in. To my surprise, there are a number of Government officials in the corner of the room. Suits, we call them. They love to ruin our fun. We're commanded to sit down at the large briefing table, all of us receiving a leather document folder and when I open it, I'm startled by the images before me.

I glance at Puck who's frowning, his fingers tracing over the pictures of the bodies and when I turn to Chang, he's got the same grim expression on his face. This is something we've never seen before.

"Chemical Warfare." The Commander announces. Commander Foley is a tall, blonde haired man with a build so huge I'm sure if I ran into him I'd bounce off him. I hear Finn echo the words under his breath and I'm pretty sure I need Foley to repeat it again so I know I'm hearing it right too.

"Now, I'm glad I'm seeing a pretty grim expression on all your faces because this is something we've never come across, not our battalion anyway." He continues, walking around the table before standing beside a laptop, clicking something. The wall lights up and more images come up, causing me to turn away. "It's something so deadly the President called me up to personally get my ass down here, which I'm sure he did to all of you." I look around, everyone is nodding and I intake a deep gulp of air, feeling a little queasy about what we're getting ourselves into. Immediately, Finn's – Hudson's – hand shoots up and I try to hold back a groan, hiding a little so it looks like I'm not in on what he's about to say. Last time he did this he asked to go the toilet, which ended up in him having a newspaper thrown at him from half way across the room.

"Sergeant Hudson." A few people snort, causing me to shift lower in my chair.  
"How are they weaponising it?" Finn's question impresses me, which is a terrible thing to say and I give him a small smile, which matches his goofy one as everyone seems to nod and wonder in agreement.

"Well, from our reports they've managed to use it like a smoke grenade, so pressurized canisters."

"What are the symptoms?" I ask, my six years of medical training in the army kicking in.

"They're nerve agents. They block transmissions of the nerve cells, including the ones that are needed to breathe. Many victims are seen with convulsions, excessive saliva, pinpoint pupils, blurred vision and respiratory distress." The Commander starts to play a video, I wince, but I'm grateful there's no sound. "They start to have difficulty breathing, next they have paralysis in their chest muscles and then they have a convulsion which ends in a coma." A very grim, slow way to die. Definitely not a way I'd like to go out.

"Now, President Erickson has been talking at the G20 summit to try and get this under control, we've discussed airborne strikes but at the moment there isn't a whole lot they can do without killing more innocent lives." Captain Schuester says, pulling off his cap and moving to sit down at the front of the table. His expression is weary and tired. "We're sending you boys back in."

* * *

I'm cold and cramped and my eye is twitching which is making me feel totally uncomfortable, but we've got an hour left in the jeep before we can get feet on the ground. We've travelled halfway across the world to Turkey, where we have intel that a small group of insurgents, mercenaries, whatever you want to call them is smuggling in the ingredients for making the chemical agents in a small town called Ceylanpinar, right off the border of Turkey and Syria. Syria is the big band country at the moment, housing Chemical weapons that they claim aren't real, but from the amount of evidence I've seen over the past few days, I want to go in there and shoot every son of a bitch in there.

The Jeep is small and only houses the four of us. Puck's driving and Hudson's asleep in the front seat, snoring so loudly I wonder how he never managed to get detected on missions. The Captain is riding up front in another car with the other guys and Chang's sitting beside me, playing with one of the C4 explosive devices as he fiddles around with the trigger mechanism. I'm watching him very closely.

"You're making me uneasy here, Chang." He lets out a soft laugh, something I don't hear everyday from him.

"It's not live."

"Still." I counter, a smirk on my face. When he looks up at me, he's matching the same grin.

"Did I ever tell you I rewired an ATM?" I shake my head but laugh, Chang's never the one to tell us any details about his life. "Instead of rewiring it I managed to trigger off the defense mechanisms that cause it to start off the alarms," I hear Puck laugh and now that I think of it, I can't hear Hudson's snoring so he must be listening in too. "But I still managed to spit out this money, so I'm standing there, holding about twelve grand in fifty dollar notes when security comes asking me what the hell happened." I smile knowingly that Mike would definitely have gotten out of this mess. "I tell them my Aunty Anna, from China, left me a sum of money because she's gone back and the machine overloaded from my withdrawal. They thought nothing of it, told me to have a nice day and left." We all start bursting out with laughter, Hudson howling the loudest.

"What did you do with the money?" Hudson asks after we die down and we all see the Chang smirk that we only see when his master plan works, but he just shrugs and continues working. We all hear Finn whine, causing us all to laugh.

Soon after we all arrive in the merry old town of Ceylanpinar, which houses a population of 68, 774 give a take a few thousand and is as inviting as my grandmother's hoarders house. Just a few months prior a stray mortar fired from a Syrian town killed someone, so the place is hot and we try and keep a low profile. We arrive at night, which happens to be when it's so bloody cold and without all our gear we're not particularly enjoying it. We cross through a small part of the town where a local man called Abdi, the one to give us our intel, instructs us on where the exchange happens. We give our thanks and find vantages points to where we can watch the exchange. I'm situated behind the small building where we intend to breach later on when our intel arrives, and I'm already starting to feel a little uneasy about the whole situation. Chang has already rigged up the place to blow just in case if we can't get a working solution to our problem. Plus it's the middle of the night and our night vision goggles always make my eyes sleepy.

Finally, right on cue there's a truck with what I can see, three men inside.

"Three men, entering the go site, everyone hold fire." I hear Captain Schuester buzz in my ear, echoing my thoughts and makes me more alert. I crack my neck, keeping my eyes on the men as I look through the scope of my weapon. Then, all of a sudden, a woman appears from the truck and from what I can see under her black hood, she's a blonde. Next thing I notice are the rope ties around her wrists.

"We've got a hostage, female, blonde and rope ties." I whisper into my mic and I glance over at Finn. He's nodded in confirmation because he's got the clearest of views and I can see him tracking her with the barrel of his weapon.

"Puckerman, Wilshere sweep." Schuester again and I glance off into the distance to see Puck and Wilshere emerge from a building, moving silently in the dark as they make their way to the truck.

"What about the hostage?" I whisper, her blonde hair imprinted into my mind.

"Not important." I grit my teeth, but hold back, glancing back at Captain Schuester who's conveniently sitting on a merry ledge all the way back with his Sniper Rifle. I believed in orders, but this order wasn't my favourite.

"Wait, something's not right." We hear Ramsey, one of our Sergeants who was perched on the other side of the building say before we all hear gunfire.

"Arms free!" Schuester shouts and I run forward, ducking behind the wall before I see the hostage, making a run for it.

I look around, making sure that I'm covered, which I am since everyone is preoccupied with what's going on in the house and I run. I sprint and dive, crashing this woman and me to the ground as I pull her behind the truck.

"Don't touch me!" She screams, and I realise from her accent, she's American. Thank the lord. I clamp my hand over her mouth and push my night vision goggles to the top of my helmet, looking down at her. For the first time in my life, I'm actually speechless for words. The hoodie has fallen off and I'm staring into a deep abyss of hazel goodness, surrounded by a pool of wavy blonde hair and a face so beautiful I could stare at it forever. Then, I'm lurched out of this somewhat dream like trance as soon as she bites down on my fingers.

"Fuck!"

"Evans, you alright?" Puckerman.

"She bit me!" I groan out, not releasing her from the hold I have on her. I hear Puck laugh and I'm about to snap something at him before I hear more gunfire.

"Let go of me, right now!"  
"Ma'am, I'm apart of the American Special Forces and if you haven't noticed, there's a fucking fire fight going on right now so if you can just shut up and sit tight that would be nice." I groan out before glancing back down at her. She's looking up at me with this expression that's full of hope and I feel the need to just touch her… or cradle her. Instead I give her a nod and begin to stand, keeping a firm grip on her wrist.

"How many have we got?" I ask into the coms, a little breathless from the moment I just had with the blonde beauty beside me.

"There were three in the back of the truck, two are down and the rest are in the house." I look down at the woman, assessing her.

"Are you checking me out, _seriously_?" She hisses and I shake my head, rolling my eyes.

"I'm trying to determine whether you can run or if I'm gonna throw you over my shoulder."

"Wow! How _manly_ of you!" She barks back and just to piss her off, I grip her and throw her over my shoulder. She whacks my back with her rope ties but I sprint and before I know it, I've stupidly drawn fire. I duck behind a building before letting out a groan at the bullet that's impacted into my body armor, but I put her down.

"For five minutes, just co-operate with me, okay?" I ask her as I pull off my vest and remove the bullet, before untying her ties and wrapping the vest around her.

"What are you doing?"

"Protecting you, what do you think?" I mutter back, glancing back around the wall to see if they've still got eyes on us but thankfully Puck has drawn fire. It was a probably a very stupid idea, giving her my vest since I don't even know her and for all it's worth, she could probably be some undercover spy for Syria.

"They're down." I hear in my ear and let out a breath, sitting down beside her as I pant a little.

"I'm Quinn, by the way." She murmurs and for a second, I almost forgot she was there.

"Sergeant Samuel J Evans of the American Special Forces." I murmur out and she sort of smiles, making me smile back. "Seems like you've had a hell of a ride."

She shrugs and then smiles.

"I've had worse."

* * *

_**Well, that's it! Any thoughts, comments etc. please don't hesitate to hit me a review!**_


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Wowza! Definitely not a response I was expecting, but thanks so much! I've left comments at the bottom in reply to the reviews, so have a looksee! Also I'm **_**not **_**particularly happy with this chapter, it's a bit back and forth, also quite wordy. Fabrevans moments are there, but they're not as prominent since their relationship is going a _bit_ slow at the moment.**

**I'm also trying to get a chapter out once a week or once a fortnight (I actually write most of it by hand then transfer it over, so that takes a bit as well), but I'm in the middle of exams so please bear with me. **

**Chapter 2**

You've seriously got to be kidding me. I've only been asleep for one hour when I hear hoots of laughter and wolf whistles, waking me from my somewhat not so peaceful sleep. I swear to god I'm going to murder every single one of these guys and castrate them while I'm at it.

I reluctantly trudge out of my small bunk that only contains a small bed, desk and a barred window to find the boys. I find them, all dressed in nothing but shirts and boxers, all huddled around a small computer that's sitting up on one of the mess hall tables. When I finally focus in on what all the commotion is on the screen, my eyes almost bulge out of their sockets.

It's Quinn.

The video is of her standing in front of a conflict zone in Iraq or Afghanistan, can't tell which one, with a very well known American Broadcasting Company logo on the corner of the screen. She's a journalist, go _fucking _figure. A very, _very_ beautiful one though. She's dressed in a button down white top, just showing off the soft curves of her hips, and has her hair up in a messy ponytail. Her serious face is kind of hot.

"That bite still sting, Evans?" I glance down, registering the comment as I was really focused on how great Quinn looked and find Puck looking up at me with this smirk that makes me want to level him out right there, but I'm too tired and my hand actually does still hurt. _Fucking hell._

"Shut up Puck." I mutter, ignoring the snickers from everyone and wander back down the hallway to where my bunk is, but on second thought I decide to head down to where Quinn is being held.

Yes, _'held'_.

After our run in, HQ demanded that we bring her back to our small quarters stationed in Turkey and interrogate her. I only managed to get enough clearance to stay with her until they actually got her into the room before I was kicked out and ordered to get some sleep. Couldn't really sleep when the last thing I saw was how she looked terrified as fuck.

I suppose that happens when you've just been loaded off a truck, in rope ties, sprung upon by a soldier – a very dashing one, of course – and brought back to be questioned the hell out of. Not to mention what must have happened to her before she was loaded off the truck, because the guys she was with looked like serial killers and that mustn't have been pretty. But the good thing is that we've confirmed who she is and be able to send her back home. Although, as a journalist I wonder how deep she went to undercover a story that wound her up as a victim of a kidnapping. Pretty fucking deep, me thinks.

I finally find where she is after about ten minutes. I've only been in this building once and all the hallways look the bloody same, so I'm not amused by the Private that's standing at the door with a small smirk on his face. I ignore him and peek in the cell, only to find Quinn's huddled in the corner of the room, her knees to her chest as she draws invisible patterns on her tattered jeans. Her blonde hair is flowing down on her right shoulder and it looks longer than the CNN broadcast I saw just before. I also notice a small scar that's just above the corner of her eyebrow. Knowing her, it's probably from picking a fight with some big bad bully.

I grip the private who has the key and take it, unlocking it before stepping in. God, if the Capt. finds out I did this I'm in _deep _shit.

"Hey Q." I murmur, not even realizing that I didn't use her full name until she's looking up at me with furrowed brows. "Sorry, Quinn." I walk over to her and bend down, reaching out my hand. "You want a hot shower?"

* * *

Ten minutes later I'm sitting outside the only shower room, that conveniently doesn't have a lock, guarding it so make sure that no one enters it as Quinn does her business. All the other showers are just the ones in the men's lockers, open air and not very private for someone who probably feels pretty violated at the moment. Also, _not to be rude_, but it seemed like she hadn't been anywhere near a shower in a couple of days and even though she still looked just as hot, she probably didn't feel it.

A few minutes later she comes out, damp hair that looks a little brown in the light and is somehow managing to wear a beautiful smile. I say beautiful because even though I've seen Quinn on the news, wearing make up and made to perfection, she in fact is just... naturally beautiful. She's wearing one of my old t-shirts and I managed to dig up some ladies size khaki pants, but she's a bit too tiny for them so it hangs off her. She still looks just as beautiful. Fuck, I said beautiful about twelves times. Then I notice the cut on her arm and frown, standing.

"What?"

"Come on, I'll fix that up." I keep my hand on her back as I steer her towards the medical quarters, which really is just a room filled with boxes of bandages and anything else you can think of and sit her down on the small bed. I can't help but notice that she's shaking from head to toe.

"So you're a journalist?" I ask as I look up at her, hoping I didn't sound like a bit of a dick trying to chat her up. She's biting down on her bottom lip – the same exact thing I watched her do on the way back to the base from the conflict zone - and rub the disinfectant over her cut, somehow managing not to flinch from it. Puck cries like a little baby anytime I patch him up.

"And you're a medical officer?" I hear in the same tone I heard the other night when I threw her over my shoulder. Feisty Quinn is back... and I'm loving it. When... I really shouldn't.

"6 years running."

"Quinn Fabray, CNN journalist. Three years running." She murmurs, her voice soft and crackly. I let out a low whistle as I work, keeping my eyes on hers. Quinn looks and sounds like a completely different person by how she is right now. Where's the girl that bit me almost five hours ago?

"You're in the big boy league. CNN is fucking rough." I say as I let out a laugh, looking down. "Sorry, didn't mean to swear." I hear her quiet giggle and as I wrap up her delicate arm, I glance back up at her again and she's sporting a perfectly arched eyebrow. Fuck, she's going to be the death of me.

"I heard you boys are too." Her voice is stronger this time, maybe she's just trying to get comfortable to new settings. I shrug before sitting down beside her once I'm done, smiling a little.

"We're not as badass as the Navy Seal guys, but we try." She smiles again and then looks down at her arm, letting out a sigh. "You okay?"

"It was terrifying, being in their camp, I thought they were going to…" She chokes up and I instinctively wrap my arm around her shoulders, giving them a small squeeze. I silently pray in my head when she doesn't flinch away from me.

"You're safe with us, I mean, we got some pretty big bad guns." I also happen to notice she's leaning into me… just a little.

"_Who_ has a big bad gun?" Pucks conveniently says as he appears with a grin that makes his eyes narrow as he takes in our form and he also manages to _drawl_ out the pronunciation of _gun_ in a terrible mock of my southern accent. His mohawk looks very inviting at the moment. To rip off, I mean.

"Weapons." I clarify and Puck just continues to grin, throwing up the tennis ball he has in his hands up in the air. Fuck he's the crudest guy I've ever met, but he's also one of the smartest on the ground so I _have _to tolerate it.

"Uh-huh." I shift and stand, moving my hands into my pant pockets and stand between the two. Almost shifting so I'm sort of shielding Quinn.

"Quinn Fabray, this is Staff Sergeant Noah Puckerman. Asshat and bong face are also his other names, but Puck is just fine." I announce and smile as Quinn giggles but it earns me a jab in the ribs from Puck. Even when he messes around he still manages to make it hurt, causing me to try hide the tears in my eyes. I watch as Puck walks over and takes her hand, kissing her palm which in turn makes my eyes roll, but I catch the wink Puck throws her and I'm suddenly feeling territorial.

"Sergeants, what the fuck is going on here?" We both spin around to find Commander Foley, glaring at us both with a look so ferocious Chemical Warfare doesn't look half as bad.

"I was just giving some aid to Quinn." I blurt out and then pause when Puck snickers, shaking my head and feeling a little flustered from Quinn's presence. "No, I mean, she had an injury so I provided first aid."

"She hasn't been properly screened, you could be aiding a spy!" I feel Quinn stiffen beside me and I let out sigh, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. Foley has always had a love for the dramatics.

"Commander Foley this is Quinn Fabray. She's a journalist that works with CNN. Turn on the TV, they've been running her disappearance for days." Thank god I'd woken up the sounds of Pucks hooting, otherwise I wouldn't have been able to recount that bit of information. Foley just nods slowly before turning on his heel, stalking off towards where I presume to be his quarters. "Keep in your fucking pants!" I heard him shout, causing a snicker to escape Puck's lips.

I turn to Quinn and she looks terrified by the experience so I just hold out my hand to her.

"I'll find you a bunk, you should get some sleep." I ignore Pucks gruffness when she takes my hand and I gently fold my fingers over hers. I reluctantly let go of her hand when we get to the main hallway, but focus on looking through rooms to find her a spot. There isn't any and the only option is to put her up in my room.

"That – no I can't do that." She says as I'm unfolding out a thin foam mat and settle down on the floor with it, grabbing a spare pillow off my bunk.

"Quinn, I've slept on rubble before, it's fine. Just sleep." I murmur and her beautiful face scrunches up before she obliges, sliding down into the bunk and pulls the covers up. Her head is the only thing that's poking out and it's probably the cutest thing I've ever seen.

"Can I ask you a question?" She murmurs and I nod, facing her as I scoot back so I can see her a little better. The floor is actually quite uncomfortable, but I'm not regretting the decision.

"How come you ran for me?" I blink and I'm kind of dumbfounded by the question. I don't know what to say to her.

"It was… I don't know. It happened all so fast." I murmur quietly, tucking my arm under my head. She purses her lips to that and I sigh, shrugging again.

"I saw your hair and I knew straight away that you weren't one of them. Plus, I don't know, it was that whole damsel in distress sort of situation." I laugh nervously, looking back up at her to see her wearing a small smile.

"Thank you, for all you've done." Her eyes sort of do this thing where they just change from a light hazel to a sort of green. I'm surprised I don't manage to stutter out my sentences.

"I know you've already been asked a dozen questions by those asshat investigators," Quinn smiles but it doesn't reach her eyes, "but I really want to ask you what happened in that camp." As soon as I finish the sentence I'm expecting a backlash, but Quinn might be the only key we have in being able to solve this thing, even with the littlest of information that she might have. "Tomorrow." She murmurs, her voice still a little shaky and I nod, keeping my eyes on her. Her eyes finally close and I think that it's probably the first time she's been able to do that without having to have that awful feeling someone might do horrible things to you.

I finally manage to fall asleep, the last thing in my mind being Quinn's blonde hair sprayed across the bunk.

"Sam." I wake to my name being called, but it's something I don't hear a lot anymore. Evans is all I am to most people so I know the name calling me isn't someone from the army. Have I been suddenly been transported back to my home and my mother is calling me for breakfast? Did I get into some freak accident where I only remember meeting Quinn and then I've lost all memory before that?

"Sam." It's soft and very inviting. I definitely like how this person calls my name and then I realise it must be Quinn and that stupid freak accident theory is pushed away. I sit up, immediately, and fling my eyes open to find I'm in kissing distance with Quinn Fabray. I swallow hard, my senses completely going numb as all I can focus on is her tongue, darting out to wet her lips or the fact that her eyes are so beautiful I could barely even think.

"Are you hungry?" I nod and she stands, a sort of smile on her lips, but I can't tell if it's a smirk or if it's something else. I try to stand before I finally feel it. The thing I've never had to deal with whenever I'm on active duty because I never really have to think about it, but now I'm sporting a very embarrassing erection. Thank _god_ I've got a blanket over me.

"I'll meet you… out there." I blurt out, receiving one of her perfectly arched eyebrows, that doesn't help me at all but she nods, leaving the room. I let out a groan, landing onto the hardness of the floor and look down. How the fuck am I going to get rid of this?

"Hey, fucktard! We're having bacon for breakfast and if you're not there I'm gonna lick all the bacon including that blonde friend of yours." It's Puck and I'm actually thanking him for that lovely image because now my lovely boner has diminished and I can now focus on the food.

* * *

The vibe in the mess hall is different than most mornings. Usually it's just quiet, a few bits of mumbling and not a whole lot of talking. Maybe today it's difference because we'd almost cracked onto something really terrifying, but it probably had to do with the fact Quinn was here. I see her as soon as I enter the room, it's not hard to since she's the only female in here and I make a beeline straight for her. Then, I remember, it would be a bit strange if I didn't come with food and grabbed that first.

Nothing special, well bacon was pretty special and sat myself in front of Quinn. She'd gone for the fruit option and that actually surprised me. From what I've heard, the camps that these Syrian dudes run aren't the biggest on nutrition.

"Only fruit?" I murmur as I somewhat graciously stuff my face with bacon. It's been a while since I've seen actual solid food, so leave me alone. I see a smile starting to form on her lips and it's so infectious that I begin to smile too.

"I might have snuck out and eaten some marshmallows. I'm coming down from a sugar rush." I feign a gasp, which she thinks is real since her smile falls and her hazel eyes fill with worry, but I grin at her, causing her to roll her eyes.

"I didn't even know we had marshmallows."

Silence falls over us then and I can see she's still getting used to where she is. I've been a victim of a kidnapping back on one of my tours so I know exactly what's going through her mind at the moment. I almost didn't get cleared to go on the next tour because I was just… slightly fucked up, so I'm grateful that she didn't get the grunt of what I did.

I finger my necklace that's neatly tucked under my shirt and tug it out, fiddling with the St. Christopher medal that my mother gave me as I keep my eyes on Quinn. She's currently inspecting the mandarin peelings that she has in front of her. I wasn't the biggest on religion, nor did I practice any of it, but the meaning of it was somewhat sentimental to me. St. Christopher is the patron saint of travellers and when my mum first gave it to me I was a bit bemused. I was sure there was another dude that was the patron saint of soldiers or some shit, but I think mum strayed away from the idea of me being a soldier and instead of seeing me as a traveler. Traveling and helping those along the way. It was nice to just have that extra bit of thought.

"Catholic boy are ya?" I hear Quinn murmur, her voice bringing me back to the present. I just shrug, giving her a sly smile and she in turn gives me one that does in fact reach her eyes this time.

"Not really, I was too bad to be one of those ring bearers."

"I think you mean an altar boy." I roll my eyes and we both laugh, earning us a few looks from the fellow guys around the place.

"I've been thinking, about all the stuff that I've managed to collect from the camp." I snap my head up in attention to her, not ready for the sudden change in subject. Quinn's got one eyebrow poised and she darts out her tongue to wet her lips. A million different things come to mind about what I'd like to do with that tongue, but I decide that's probably not the most appropriate thing to think about at the moment.

"Quinn I need to tape this." I murmur, grabbing my phone from my pocket and set it on the table. Quinn hesitates as she looks at it and I notice the breath she lets out because her shoulders slump at the same time.

"There man that gave you the intel, his name is not Abdi, it's Abasi."

"Isn't Abasi more of a… Kenyan name?" I hear someone say and I turn, realizing that now half of the squad is listening in to Quinn's story. Quinn doesn't seemed phased by it.

"That's what I thought too, I tried to find out if he had any other family in the area, but I couldn't find any and I really thought that was worth following." I frown at that. That's some seriously dangerous shit to be poking around with. "Abasi is a local arms dealer, he's also known to be apart of a local kidnapping crew _and _he's a smuggler of some of the ingredients for the nerve agent."

"How the fuck did we confirm intel with this guy?" Puck mutters from behind me and I'm feeling personally played at the moment. I nod to Quinn to continue.

"He's also known to be a..." She clears her throat before leaning in. "He's been known to work with international government agencies to provide cover ups... and to spy." I lean back, thoughts and theories forming in my mind.

If this Abasi guy purposely gave us fake intel - which in turn was actually real intel because the truck did show up - was he in fact leading us into a trap? What was the point of it? We had too many feet on the ground, there was no possible way that the guys that Abasi was working with would be able to take us out. Unless... Quinn was a trap or... she was given to us for a reason. To stay away? That she'd give us all the information she has on Abasi and the guys, causing us to stay away. Why the fuck would we do that?

"I was taken after that, chloroformed and I wound up in a small compound." Changs beside me now and he's diligently taking notes, making me glance back up at Quinn to see if she's noticed this too. She talks directly to him at this point. "It had really high walls, it had no windows and from what I could see, it was all white. The outside too." Her breathing becomes a little heavy and I resist the urge to lean over and give her hand a reassuring squeeze. But I still can't help but think that Quinn was given to us for a reason. That there is something much deeper than we're thinking about at the moment. Like we haven't even scratched the surface. All I know is that Abasi is out there and that's the only lead we have to go on.

"I was the only foreigner in there. They had a number of women and children, I wasn't sure if they were the wives of the men in there, but they were never touched. The women, I mean." All I can hear is her breathing and the scratching of Chang's pen, but I could definitely feel the tension beginning to rise.

"The children were sent off, to make the canisters... and when they ran out of children, the women." Her voice is barely audible and my throat contracts, the sick thought of children making canisters and having it blow up in their faces makes me want to throw up. For anyone to have to make those canisters, the thought makes me want to be sick.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me." Puck mutters and I can see the sadness swelling in Quinn's eyes. There was something that she saw in there that I knew she'd never forget.

"Huh?" Hudson mutters and instead of making a public announcement of his stupidly and inability to connect the dots, Puck decides to pull him away and explain it to him.

Of course they would use the children. It would hurt any person the most, especially world leaders wanting to end this. To see children having to make a canister and knowing that they would in fact lead themselves to their own deaths, would make anyone sick. I watch as Finn finally gets told and watch as he walks off, disappearing down a hallway. I'll have to find him later to make sure he's okay.

"There was a man there called K… something and he to me, looked like he was running the operation."

"Catch a name?" Mike asks and she shakes her head before reaching out to take a sip of her water. She looks exhausted.

"They were speaking Swahili." I furrow my brows, the most common tongue in Syria was Arabic. Why on earth would they be speaking Swahili?

"They weren't Syrians, they were Kenyans." Quinn deadpans, answering the question that was floating around in my head. I frown deeply. This just got a whole lot complicated that I really didn't want it to be and my mind is now swirling with possible scenarios. "I think I may be able to get back in."

* * *

_**Any comments, thoughts or ramblings (including rants) are all welcome! Hit me up with a review!**_

_Samquinnchorddianna  
_Thanks so much! I really wanted to test how far I could get with their relationship in that short period of time – also in an environment where you wouldn't meet the potential love of your life (ha ha ha spoilers?!). Actually, have to admit, as I read your review I started laughing because I was like "Oh no! I've been caught!" because yeah, I'm a huge Arsenal fan. Just wait, I'm pretty sure a few more will appear, haha. #TOPOFTHELEAGUE

_Nicole  
_Oh goodness thank you! You're way too kind. I'm such a huge mandorac fan, oh goodness that's such a huge comparison AHhhAHhHhh that's so nice! Unfortunately I haven't been able to read any of readingtoomuch before, but she sounds really good . You're being way too nice though, oh goodness. I've always been so bad with doing one-shots because I really have a _lot _of trouble ending my stories, I always want them to keep going! But I'll definitely give it a think, but thanks for investing so much thought, really! Also kick your phone in the butt for me!_  
_

_CeruleanBlues  
_Sam in a military uniform is such a swoon fest and thank you so much! I actually was sitting on the fence about posting this because I've never been too confident about writing (I always bloody change tenses, without even realizing omg and I have such a blergh fest spending so long trying to fix it). But ahh thank you so much! I've always had this idea where Quinn is this kick ass journalist who never backs down from a fight and probably winds herself up in a ton trouble because of it. Then enter the white knight who swoops in to save the day! Haha! But yeah, I'm really excited to bring out Quinn's past, why she wanted to be a journalist and especially why she's so invested in going out in conflict areas so wee! Thanks so much for taking the time to read and review!_  
_

_FabrevansXOXOBrittana  
_Eee, you're way too kind, but thank you so much for reading! I really hope the storyline doesn't disappoint._  
_

_B2stB2uty  
_Thanks heaps for the review! I hope that this chapter was as good as the first one for you!_  
_


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Not really the ending that I wanted, but I wanted to end it. It's not really a cliffhanger either so it's like an eh effort. Sorry! **

**Also more fabrevans moments in this chapter! **

**Chapter 3**

"No fucking way." I almost yell, causing half of the mess hall to stare at me with startled and almost amused looks. They can tell Quinn is affecting me in more ways than she should, but they all seem to tolerate it. They've all seen me lose my temper and I guess they don't want to see that again.

"Sam, I can get back in there and I can get you the information that you _need._" I shake my head, the way she said my name making me a little breathless, but I stand and continue to shake my head at her. Quinn's hazel orbs are trying to plead with me and it would be working in any other situation, but as I'm staring at them I'm imagining the blank stare when death creeps over someone.

That's something I can hold onto.

"That is _not_ how we do things. There are protocols, there is intel to collect, this idea is stupid. You _will_ get killed." I state, ticking off the words on my fingers before leaning on the table as I grip the edges. Hard.

"You don't know that." Quinn murmurs softly, her voice barely audible. I bite my lip and keep my eyes on the table, knowing that if I look at her I'll crumble. I'm still contemplating how she just landed in our lap still. Does she have contact with them? Is my feelings getting in the way with the fact that we could be aiding and abetting a spy? Am I overlooking something massive?

"They were going to sell you off in good faith so those dealers could have a _fuckfest_ with you. If you go back in there, you won't die. You will _wish_ you were be dead." I turn to Puck and he's standing against the far wall, his words coming out harsh and short. His eyes are narrowed and his arms are crossed over his chest, making his words overly aggressive. I kind of want to deck him, but at the same time I want to thank him. Puck could always say the things that I never could. I turn back in time to see Quinn's expression change and I see the tears forming in her eyes. This isn't fair on her, of course, but in unfair place like this, there has to be some lines.

It was an absurdly stupid idea, wasn't it? Who the fuck knows what would happen if she went back in there? We would have no control over the situation, let alone the fact we didn't even know if Quinn was an inside job… that makes me question why no one else besides me is questioning that fact.

Quinn stands then, grabbing the apple off her tray and storms off to the hallway, presumably back to my bunk. I sigh, my shoulders dropping and decide that I should go find Hudson. I head to the kitchen and find Finn's favourite, beef jerky and search for him where I eventually find him in the main garage, shooting hoops. From what I've heard, he could have gone all pro if he didn't flunk out of College.

"Finn." I call. Of course we really only refer to each other by last names, but this is a touchy subject for him. His girlfriend back home, well, _fiancé _is pregnant. A beautiful brunette by the name of Rachel, who so much shorter than Finn, is almost five months pregnant. I only learnt this when Finn and I shared the plane trip over. I actually thought he'd been single for a long time, but he tells me how Rach sends him emails of pictures of the baby and long lists of annoying things that are constantly bugging her. It makes Finn miss her more.

"Sam." He replies before fist pumping a little when he gets a three pointer. I smile and move, catching the ball as it drops through the net.

"You okay?" I ask as I dribble a little before shooting, it hits the backboard and bounces off in Finn's direction. I watch as his tall frame barely moves to retrieve the ball.

"It's just…" He shrugs, sighing.  
"Tough?"  
"Yeah." He goes quiet then and he's lining himself up, keeping his eyes trained on the rim. Finn jumps and lands himself another three pointer.

"You plan to bring a kid into this world and then you hear about kids who don't even get to live. Scares the shit out of me." He murmurs after a while once I've retrieved the ball from one of his misses. Rare, misses. Finn tucks the ball under his arm and rests the other on his hip, his eyes staring off in the distance.

"But you're fighting out here, so you _know _that your kid will have a chance to live." I murmur, moving to sit down on a bench and watch as he follows. He leans over, folding his hands together in front of him as she stares at the floor. I decide that maybe beef jerky time would have to be later.

"But I want to fight here too so these kids get a chance as well." Finn counters, his eyes lowered so I can't see how he his, but I know he's pretty upset. I sigh, completely unsure as to how to counter that. I just reach over and grip his shoulder, giving it a light squeeze.

"We can't save everyone." I murmur, dropping my hand to rest it back on my thigh. Finn just nods, his eyes still lowered.

"Just wish we could."

"Me too."

* * *

It's been a couple of hours since Quinn's storming off so I decided that, _hopefully_, my decision to not chase after was a good one. It would be very difficult to maintain a bit of respect in front of the guys when you're off chasing this beautiful girl to make sure she's okay. Plus, I'm not the expert with the ladies, but I'm pretty sure I would have made her more pissed off if I followed her and tried to explain. I don't know – Quinn's a hard one to figure.

I look through the bunks and find no sign of her, but I do find a note on my now very neat bunk. Addressed to me in a very nice, neat, almost Victorian era handwriting is the words

_Sam,_

_I've gone to find my own answers. Don't worry, not the way you're thinking. I've contacted the embassy in Turkey and I'm headed back to the U.S in a short while._

Under that is her contact details, which I'm slightly giddy about, but I want to call the embassy to make sure that she made it okay. When I _do _call, there is no evidence that someone had made a call like that, or in fact, any requests of that nature.

Of _fucking _course.

She did bite me when we were middle of a firefight. She's a journalist. She also appeared out of fucking no where with intel that we falsely obtained by this Abasi guy – who is still out there and is god knows doing what – but there is no way Quinn, a very beautiful but crazy as shit journalist, would walk away from the one place she'd find the most amount of information. She'd go straight to the source.

But _how_ straight?

I find myself running through the hallways of the small complex to find the equipment I need. I gather radios, medical gear, utility belts and shit like that before making my way off to the armory. There I meet Puck, and good ol' Puck did not look very amused. He's like that school bully in the playground that's got control of the sand pit. No one's stepping inside it unless he _says _so.

"No way you're going out there by ya fucking self." He mutters as he cleans the barrel of a shotgun. Why on earth do people always do the scariest things like checking out trigger mechanisms of C4 explosives and cleaning firearms around me?

"It's not even dark." I mutter as I push past him, finding myself a pistol and a disguise that we most commonly use in middle-eastern type places like these.

"This is about Quinn, isn't it?" I try not flinch at the question, but I feel my stomach do a flip at her name.

"She's out there. She left me some bullshit letter about going to the embassy and back to the States." I finally admit, because with the shit Puck and I have been through, I can barely say something without him asking if I'm okay.  
"She's a fucking journalist, don't believe anything she says." Puck says with a scoff, but I know he's right so his attitude doesn't piss me off.

"She bit me too." Puck nods, actually serious, before he cocks the shotgun and puts it back. He starts arming himself, which in turn causes me to raise an eyebrow at him.

"You're coming?"  
"Damsel in distress, who knows what could happen?"

"I'm the white knight." I counter, smirking.

"Was that a racist remark?" I let out a laugh then and we're both smirking before I let out a breath, finally geared up. Puck reaches out and squeezes my shoulder, giving me a small smile.

"We'll find her, okay? She'll be okay."

* * *

Twenty minutes later we've had Chang offer his services and we're now driving in a very – not so suspicious – van, looking for any sign of Quinn. She was trying to get information about this Abdi/Abasi guy the last time and the whole basis of her investigation was this. Also with the introduction of her new intel, that she might have not completely told us all about, from the camp god knows where on earth... she could be walking into a trap. Or... she could be heading back to her superiors?

It's difficult to not have a clouded mind when all you can see is how great her ass looked in those khaki pants she wore this morning, but I have to stay objective. I don't know Quinn. I don't know who exactly she is and all the stuff with Abasi and how she basically appeared to us like the Jesus on a grilled cheese – Finn's words, not mine – I _have _to keep my distance. When it's god dam so hard too.

Then, I see her. She's _really_ got to cover up her hair because I've managed to spot her in the middle of a crowd since her hair shines in the sun like a blonde freaking halo. I slide out of the van, readjusting the sort of dress shirt thing that the men around here wear and keep the balaclava around my eyes. Pretty suss for a very white boy American to be running the streets of Turkey in traditional dress.

"Just keep going straight." Chang whispers in my ear through the communication device he rigged up a couple of minutes ago and I nod, noticing as the van peels off and down a side street that I'm going through. I have a clear view on Quinn and she's speaking very quickly to a short man with a pistol strapped to his belt. I try to blend in as I make my way through the crowd and avoid a few looks as I continue to make my way.

Then, it all happened suddenly. Quinn was just standing there and then the next minute, some guy had her by her waist and hoisted her over his shoulder.

She is _definitely_ not going to like that.

I rip my balaclava off and sprint, pushing through the crowd as I race after them. I can hear Quinn screaming and I'm using it as a guide since the crowd is getting denser and it's difficult to reach her. I get to a point and climb a set of stairs, managing to climb on a small balcony before sprinting, jumping and tackling this guy to the ground. Fuck that hurt.

I look up to be confronted with two men, one that had the grip on Quinn and another that looks like a middle-eastern version of George Clooney. His dashing looks almost stops me what I'm about to do next, as laughable as it is. They're both conveniently in kicking distance, which causes me to kick them both in the nuts – at the same time – and roll over when I hear George Clooney's gun off. Of course, I get hit, something that I guess I'm going to have to get used it whenever I'm chasing Quinn around and groan softly.

Then, as if I'm watching some weird daytime TV show involving a crack team of a macho army guy and a hot sidekick lady, Quinn comes running out wielding a sort of wooden plank thing. She swings out, quite forcefully, and George Clooney's sidekick falls to the ground while George swings around to deal with Quinn. I jump up, ignoring the fact that I've got a flesh wound to the thigh and kick the back of his knee and finally render him unconscious when I send a punch straight to the back of his head.

I look around and notice that we've caused quite a scene and what I can see from over the crowd; more of these dudes are on their way. I press my finger to my ear and I panic, hoping to make contact with the rest of the guys, but of course, I can't feel the communication device. It would make sense because Mike would have been talking to me the whole time. He likes to comment on how bad my style of boxing should be replaced with jit fit su or jujitsu or whatever the fuck it's called, making me angry. It works. I glance around, noticing the small skin coloured device that was once able to fit in my ear is now shattered on the floor. I must have knocked it out when I jumped on that guy and now I have no way to contact the guys.

"Sam." Quinn brings me back and I'm staring at her soft, delicate features as I try to figure out what to do next. I have no coms, no way of the guys being able to find us and we have to go, _now. _Will I be able to get us back to base alive? Then, just as my prayers are answered, the van slides up beside us and Puck's familiar smirk is greeting us.

"Are you _actually _insane?" I spit out once when we're in the van and I'm sitting across from her, staring at how there is a small trail of blood starting from the top of her hairline to just below her chin.

"He was a trusted contact!" She counters, her nose flaring and I'm feeling more pissed off as ever. How Quinn could be _so _stupid to do this, to go straight to the _fucking _source and almost get herself killed for it? I can feel my hands forming into fists on my knees as I think about all the possible scenarios that could have happened to Quinn.

"We told you how dangerous it was, Quinn, how stupid can you be!"

"Oh don't you dare." Quinn spits at me, sitting up in her chair as she leans over and points her finger at me. "You get a kick out of this, this whole white knight damsel in distress business. You should have just left me there, I'd be treated better by them by you!"

That hit me harder than I realised it did. Of course, Quinn didn't know why, but Chang and Puck go silent and I'm suddenly feeling very claustrophobic in this small van. Luckily, we've arrived at the compound and I fling myself out of there, heading off in any direction that will take me away from the feelings that I don't want to feel.

"Evans, you need to calm down." It's Puck and he's startled me, because I didn't realise he'd been following me the whole time. I shake my head and continue walking because I can't stop. If I stop I have to confront it. "What happened to Sarah isn't going to happen to Quinn." Then it hits me like a brick wall and I find myself turning, staring at Puck with such anger I don't know how I'm still standing. Puck's looking at me, tears in his eyes and I know how angry it makes him to talk about it as well.

"Do _not_ bring her up." I spit at him, probably more forcefully than I intend to, but I _do not_ want to talk about this.

"She was _my _sister, Sam!" He moves to me then, gripping my shoulders and I don't have the energy to fight him off. "What happened to her isn't going to happen to Quinn. She'll be on a flight to New York or Michigan or wherever the fuck she lives and she'll be safe." I look past Puck then and see Quinn, staring at us with her hands clasped in front of her as she looks at us in worry. I look back at Puck and he's giving my shoulder a squeeze.

"Sarah would want you to move on Sam, to get past it and find someone to help you get past it." I feel the tears burning my cheeks and I wipe at them furiously, swallowing hard.

"Do you still blame me?"

"I never did. I just wish it was me." I knew Puck didn't blame me for what happened, but I had to hear it aloud.

"It's not your fault either, Puck." And without another word Puck walks off, past Quinn and back into the main complex. Then I'm stuck with Quinn's face, staring at me with such worry I'm sure she'd crumble to pieces in a second. But I can't do it, I don't want to talk to her even though I know I probably should, but the pain in my thigh is hurting more than I can ever imagine. It was just a _bloody _flesh wound.

Somehow as I made my back over to the complex, Quinn didn't say anything and just gripped my arm and swung it around her shoulders to use as support. I did kind of lean on her as we made our way through and I was feeling pretty bad for her because she's quite a tiny person and I obviously am not.

As soon as we got to the small medical room, she pushed me to sit on the bed and gave me a look. It was a very confusing one.

"Drop them." She murmurs with an eyebrow raised, the corner of her mouth slowly starting to show a small smirk. "Unless you go commando."

"You wish." I retort back and she lets out a soft laugh, smiling when it reaches her eyes. I don't know how, but in a manner of minutes she's suddenly made me feel from a complete utter fuck up to just a normal guy. Maybe Puck was right. She might be the right person to help me move on.

But I do what she says and drop my pants, painfully aware that I am wearing my Captain America underwear that has his shield spotted everywhere on it. It was a birthday present from my mum, okay?

"Quite the patriot." Quinn comments and I roll my eyes, shifting as I watch her. I almost automatically reach out for my kit, but she pats my hand to let her do it, so I just lean back on my palms and watch her handiwork.

Of course it hurts, so I'm not going to make fun of Puck whenever I patch him up the next time. It's a lot deeper than I thought, but I'm just bloody glad I didn't actually get shot. I just got… deeply grazed. As I watch her work I feel the urge to talk, to sit her down and make her look me in the eyes, just so I can watch her smile as I talk about the stupidest stuff. But I know what she wants to know is what just happened in the van, so I oblige. If this girl can make me instantly feel better just by smiling, then what else could she do if I told her what happened?

"I had to leave someone behind." I breathe out as she swabs at my cut and watch as she instantly stops. Her eyes travel up to mine and I can see the worry in them again. The same look I saw the first time I met her. I almost smile at the memory.

"Sam…" She grabs the stool she used to sit on to work and pulls it closer, resting her hand on my thigh as she smiles sadly. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean what I said."

"It was Puck's sister." Her face falls and I instantly know that she's not apart of whatever Abasi has cooking up. No way in hell does a girl show such emotion and compassion to a guy like me, when she might be aiding some dick like Abasi. No matter the circumstances. "She was a communications specialist, I was helping her out with a satellite when we were attacked." I don't realise that I'm actually crying until Quinn reaches up with her thumb to wipe them away, her own eyes filling with tears.

"We… we were taken." My words are coming out in hurried sentences as my throat contracts around them, trying not to let them come out, but they have to. For my sake. For Puck's sake.

"I understand, Sam. You were just protecting me and from my little time with you… I know you wouldn't have given up without a fight, okay? I know you'd never leave anyone behind just on a simple whim. I know you would never leave me behind." I glance up at her as she moves to sit down beside me, taking my hand as she gives it a soft squeeze. Quinn smiles softly and leans in to kiss my shoulder, as if it was something easily done between us. Something we'd been doing for years. "You never did from the start."

Then I feel the smile starting to form on my lips, flashes of our first meeting together coming to mind and making me feel a whole lot better about the whole conversation. Quinn's smile matches mine before she looks away, her eyes finding the floor as she lets out a soft sigh.

"My Dad died in 9/11." I hear her whisper and I instantly give her hand a squeeze. I also had to swallow hard because I have no idea how I'd be able to live through that. "I remember the day so well because he refused to come to my first cheerleading semi-final, telling me that he'd only come for a grand final." She looks back up at me to give me a smile and I give her hand another squeeze before she continues on. "I was really upset that he didn't come, but I look back on it now and realise that was his way to get me to strive _really _hard for what I wanted."

Her breathing is even and slow and I watch as her shoulders shift with every breath. Quinn is so controlled, so driven and she looks so tense. I guess we're all like that out here, all tense about the things we've seen and the things we're going to encounter.

"This Abasi story… isn't just a story. It's something really personal and I know that it shouldn't be. But… I don't want people to have to experience what I went through. That constant regret of trying to change something that you can't. I can change that, I can uncover what's real and what's not. I can make them feel that they're not worthless." Quinn's eyes are far away but I can't tear my eyes off them. As vulnerable as she is at the moment, she has never looked so beautiful and I realise that I never want to be anywhere else than right here with her. No matter how strange she appeared to us. No matter her background or what she's done. To me, she's the only thing that's okay in my life. The only thing that makes everything all right.

"The stuff I saw in that… hell, I never want to see again, but I'm so blinded that goal I'm getting people into danger because of it." I sigh and wrap my arm around her shoulders, giving her a gentle squeeze.

"I'm so blinded by you that I can barely do anything." I murmur softly and I smile softly when she looks up at me with a questioning look, but it turns into a smile. Quinn ducks her head but I can see the blush creeping to her cheeks, causing me to do a mental fist pump in my head.

Then as I'm about to say something, Puck conveniently appears again, but this time his face has no smirk in sight. He looks very grave and serious.

"They've got Abasi."

* * *

**A very blergh ending, but there it is! Don't hesitate to send in any reviews, rants, etc.**

_Ceruleanblues  
_Ah! Thank you so much again. As much as I want them to be together as soon as possible, especially since this is AU and they don't know each other, I'm trying to take it slow, but not too slow. Even though they are in this very hostile environment and it'd be very difficult to have a relationship, I think they're sort of ignoring that and going where their feelings take them. But then there's Sam story and the reasons _why _he's so slow and not jumping on those feelings, but sigh, we'll see. Puck is always my favourite to write, he has that fun compared to Sam's seriousness and everything is just kind of laid back and chilled with him - although in this chapter you kind of learn a back story to the way he works, which is nice I hope, haha, whereas Quinn's just amazing. She's a ball of utter sass and vulnerability that I'm pretty sure she doesn't even know about, so yeah, I think she's discovering herself and figuring out what she's really here for, with Sam helping her along the way. But yes, thank you again for the review!_  
_

_Samquinnchorddianna  
_Thank you! There are more Sam & Quinn interactions in this chapter, so hopefully you like them! I hope that you like the background story behind Puck and Sam - it kind of figures in as to why Puck's so hovery and why he pokes a bit of fun from time to time in hopes to get Sam to lighten up, but yeah! But yeah, the twist of the story isn't really dealt with in this chapter and I don't know, Sam seems to be the only one picking up on this mystery but that might be because of his infatuation with Quinn, haha! Also how great is it that we're now 2 points ahead on the ladder!? YEAHH #GOOOOONERS_  
_

_And  
_Thanks so much! Hope this chapter filled in a little bit more of Quinn for you!


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: This one took longer than usual, plus I don't think it's that great. I didn't get any reviews/feedback last chapter so I wasn't really sure if publishing was worth it (views down & no reviews = not interested anymore?). Anyway, I don't want to crap on about how reviews are the most important thing in the world, it's just I really do find it helpful to gauge whether you guys like the story and to prevent any future mistakes or anything. **

**Chapter 4**

I'm staring at Abasi through the metal bars and it takes everything in me to not grab the key and bash the living daylights out of this guy. Abasi is very short, has a balding head and a half an ear, making him look as if he'd be more suited as a cars sales man than an international crime lord, but that feeling to knock his brains out is still there. The last time I met him he was wearing a turban and had an _intact _ear, making me wonder how he lost them both.

What we know is that Abasi works for the highest level of corrupt, so with that information, I would love to do whatever it takes to get him to spit out every last detail that we need.

But, we know he might not even talk.

I glance back at Quinn's who's amongst the crowd of watchers, her eyes narrowed as she has both her arms wrapped around herself and it makes me frown. She's scared of this man. Has she seen this guy before?

It would make no sense for her to. When we ambushed the truck, Abasi wasn't at the place and unless she's working for them or… been into contact with this guy in some way then she shouldn't have met him. Through us, that is. Through her weird bat shit crazy journalist quest… maybe?

I carefully step back before I'm standing beside Quinn, resting my hand on the pool of her back as I lean down to whisper in her ear.

"Do you know him?" I glance back in time to see her nod and her body feels like it's vibrating against my hand. She's scared shitless. I give her a reassuring squeeze before guiding her away from the small group, grabbing Puck's arm to drag him along with us.

"What do you want?" Puck barks out once we're tucked away down a hallway before I turn to Quinn, giving her side a squeeze. I feel and hear the breath that she lets out to calm herself down.

"How do you know Abasi, Quinn?" Puck furrows his brows before shoving his hands in his pockets, knowing that it's his cue to shut up and listens in. Quinn looks at us both before letting out a breath, her tongue poking out to wet her lips.

God the things she does that drives me crazy.

"His name isn't Abasi, it was… it is… I don't know, but it's Madu." I frown and I look at Puck, he has his eyebrows raised at her.

"Wait, so this guy went from Abdi to Abasi and now it's Madu?" This was the reason I brought Puck along. Quinn's… beauty, you could call it, is clouding my judgment and Puck is super good at picking up the small things.

"I only know Abdi by name. Abasi, sorry. There were just names on a piece of paper compiled by my evidence." Quinn looks very flustered under Puck's glare but he knows this. That's why he's such a good interrogator. He gets people to spill the beans when they don't even know what the beans are. "That guy, Madu, I know by his face."

"What did he do in the compound? If that's where you saw him?" Quinn nods, her hands folding together and unfolding as her eyes dart to Puck's than to mine. I give her a nod to continue.

"He worked closely with the guy who run it. K.. something."

"And why are you scared of him?" I murmur softly and she turns to me, her shoulders slumping as she sighs.

"He was the one who brought the kids to make the canisters." I can feel the breath knocked out of me before I turn and head straight back to his cell, Puck shouting at me as I grab the key and unlock it.

Abasi or whatever the fuck he's called is staring at me with a smug look on his face and sits up a little in his chair, the smug smile growing wider.

"So… you know who I am."

But, before I can even do anything Finn comes out of nowhere and lands a punch right to Abasi's jaw. I turn to Finn and he's got that look of anger mixed with pure hatred, probably what I'm exhibiting right now and looks over at me. I know he's waiting for me to scold him, but I don't. Somehow, watching Finn do it gave me more satisfaction than if I did it myself.

"Out, the both of you." We hear Puck order and we both nod, me grabbing Finn's shoulder as I lead him out. Finn must have been listening to us the whole time and knowing how touchy the topic about the children is to him, we're all gonna give him some slack.

Plus, Puck's about to interrogate and Finn was just the starter.

Thank god Commander Foley isn't here to see this, he'd have our heads on a spit for breaking protocol. But, whatever. Finn isn't the most violent of types and it was good to see him let it out. Even though when violence really shouldn't be the answer, says I, a Spec Ops soldier. And we shouldn't really let things get personal, says I, the golden retriever strapped to Quinn's side.

After a small talk with Finn to make sure he's alright, I look around for Chang and grab him, pulling him to one the small computer rooms that we have and get him to find anything he can on Abasi or Abdi or whatever the frick this guy is called. I believe everything that Quinn's said, but I'm not sure everyone else will too without any confirmation to back it up.

"What are you guys doing?" I look up and Quinn is standing behind Mike, with an eyebrow raised as she tries to peek over his shoulder. Sigh, this isn't going to go down well.

"Mike's looking up whatever he can on Abasi." Quinn's eyebrows furrow as she turns to look at me and I can see she's a little hurt by that. "Quinn, we believe you, but you have to understand that we need to back up your story."

"Commander Foley, no offence, has never really liked journalists. We've been assigned to get whatever we can on Abasi/Madu on orders from him." Mike says and I'm glad he's managed to come up with that story as I watch Quinn's face change from hurt to understanding.

"So you're not doing this on your own volition?" We shake our heads in perfect unison and I give Quinn a small smile.

"We turned over the evidence you gave us to the Commander, he acknowledged it to be the truth but he just wanted us to find something else in his past." Now I feel awful for lying to her, but it's a lie that we need to have so we can still have her on board and helping us.

Chang turns around then, giving me a sly smile before fully turning to face Quinn, giving her a gentle smile. It's a very smooth looking smile that I rarely see and it makes me think whether he has feelings for Quinn.

"Quinn, when you said that he worked with a guy called K, what did he exactly look like?" I reach over and grab a chair for Quinn, setting it down beside Mike and stand behind her as she sits. I catch a few strands of her hair that's fallen out of her plat and listen to them talk as I play with them. Then when Mike pulls up a picture that Quinn identifies as the K man, I accidentally tug down on her hair without realizing it.

"Ow, Sam!"

Commander Kofi is his name and he runs the biggest drug smuggling and child solider operation. He also commands a small army that deals with anything a corrupt government can't do _and _he also has links to Al-Qaeda.

He was also the man that tortured me and killed Sarah. I never knew who he was until I saw his face and the rest all just followed out after that. I can never get the moment of him slamming my face into concrete out of my head.

"Sam, do you know this guy?" My jaw sets when Mike asks the question and I feel my grip tightening on Quinn's chair, as if I'm ready to throw it. I'm just glad that Quinn's sitting on it right now and the feeling of never wanting to hurt her flows through me. It calms me.

"He killed Sarah. His name is Commander Kofi."

I walk away after that and I'm thankful Quinn didn't follow. I was too angry to deal with her and I would have said something stupid, probably upsetting the both of us. Instead I head to one of the small hills that backs our base and grab a beer and a chair, overlooking the back skirts of this small Turkey town.

* * *

I know I'm on my second beer when Quinn comes and joins me just as the sun is about to set. I hand her my beer and she takes a sip before screwing her face up, causing me to laugh.

"This is not beer." Quinn splutters and I can't help but smile, watching her carefully. She's changed into a sweater and some jeans, with just the smallest hint of makeup on her face. Quinn looks better without it, let's be honest.

"It's local… you can't really tell the taste after the first." I comment and she rolls her eyes, crossing her legs as she leans her elbow on the arm of her chair.

"Sam… can I ask you something?" I nod, knowing that her question is either going to relate back to Kofi or something else to do with him. I've managed to calm down enough so I know that I'm not going to get angry with her. "How close were you and Sarah?"

That one hits me though and I don't know what to say. I guess… I think I loved Sarah, but I never told her and I knew she loved me back too. I guess we were both waiting for the tour to be over so we could actually be together. It was sort of one of those corny movie moments to happen and I could feel myself quite angry at the thought of how shitty I was to leave it like that. To not take anything to chance and to actually, be myself and go for it. But then, of course, shit fucking happens.

"I think I loved her." I murmur quietly, my eyes on the golden sunset as I ponder the question in my head.

"Think?" Her tone isn't condescending or hurtful… she's actually genuinely intrigued and I now don't wonder why how she manages to report such great stuff. The people she works with trust her just by likability and it's like… you want to tell her all your secrets.

"Because I never told her. You should tell people you love them, I never did." I polish off my second beer and reach for a third before Quinn's hand stops me. It causes me to glance up at her and her hazel orbs are as inviting as ever.

"Is that why you've been a bit slow with me?" That one definitely takes me by surprise and I feel my hand sweat in hers. God, that's not a trait I'm most proud of but Quinn squeezes my hand.

"Wha.. what?"

"There are moments when I catch you looking at me and if it's not me, it's my butt." I blush a little and give her a sheepish smile, which in turn causes her to roll her eyes. "But then there are moments where I can see you're scared."

I inhale and I could really do for that third beer to numb my senses, but I know I have to tough this one out. Face it and control it.

God, it sounded like a horrible infomercial.

She's right though. Of course she is. I'm scared shitless by what Quinn makes me feel and she's turning my world upside down. I used to be a soldier first, but now… I'm Sam first. I think about myself a lot more, I think about how Quinn makes me feel… I think about how I can't bring myself to think about the horrible things I've seen out here and the situations that might land her in those situations.

"Puck told me that I need to move on… and I don't know, the thought was impossible, but when you showed up it seemed possible..."

"It can be possible, Sam." She whispers and I look over at her. Quinn looks beautiful as the rest of the sun shines just below her chin and her hazel eyes have turned a sort of green.

"I don't know.." I whisper and I can feel her breath on my lips, making my head swirl.

"Try."

Then without another word I've leant over and pressed my lips against hers. It felt like the first time I'd ever kissed a girl. It was full of all this emotion and I didn't know how to control. But then, I felt her lips respond and suddenly it grew into something more. I feel my cheeks fill with heat and my hand finds her neck, my thumb brushing over her jaw. Then, like a trusty good interrupter that he is, Puck shows up with the loudest of throat clearings I've ever heard.

Turning to him, I try and not show how very angry I am, but I'm absolutely fuming. But of course, my face changes when I see his. He's got something from Madu and the look in his eyes tells me that this is information best not to be shared with Quinn.

"Give me a minute, Q." I murmur as I stand and I turn to see her eyes flicker to the show the saddest of emotions before it turns neutral._ I've learnt that trick too, Quinn, you can't hide from me. _I lean down and press my lips to her forehead, feeling her give my shirt a small tug. I squeeze her hand before turning away, knowing that this was the moment I had to turn into Sergeant Sam Evans, not Sam.

When I walk in there the whole squad is staring at me with looks of disappointment and some of disgust. I frown in confusion and just follow Puck, till he takes me to a small interrogation room and sits me down.

"What is going on?" He says nothing to me but unfolds some sort of paper and places it on the desk in front of me. I frown and pull it closer.

It's a photo of Quinn.

Kissing Kofi.

My first reaction surprises Puck, and me, because he's standing against the wall away from where I've thrown the table halfway across the room.

"NO!" I shout at him and all he does is grab me, pulling me into this awkward hug that makes me want to wrestle him to the ground, but I'm too emotionally drained to do anything. It's comforting, but I feel myself breaking. All of today, all of what just happened has gone out the window because that picture breaks so many wrong things.

"What if…" I whisper and Puck pulls back, resting his hands on my shoulders.

"Don't jump to anything. We have _nothing _on this photo and from what Abasi… Madu or whatever the fuck his name is has given us, it's nothing to say that this was _consensual._"

I glance up at him and Puck's giving me this look. It's sort of like his pity look, but it's a look that makes me feel that he gets what I'm feeling and to calm the fuck down till the story has been fully investigated. I glance up just in time to see Quinn being walked down the hallway and before I can make a move, Puck grabs my arm.

"They're not going to hurt her." He keeps ahold of my shoulder as we walk out and he takes me to the small-mirrored room that adjoins to the interrogation room.

"I want this to work for you, Sam. I really do." I glance over at Puck and he's got this sad look on his face, something he barely shows. I nod and he lets out a breath, clapping his hand over my shoulder. "Just don't come beat me up after."

It takes me a moment to realise what's going on till he leaves and walks into the interrogation room. I see his whole demeanor change and now he's got the hardass look he uses on all his prisoners. I watch as Quinn cowers in her chair and from the looks of it she has no idea what is going on. The slam of Puck putting the photo down in front of her make her and me jump, but I carefully watch her face as she takes in the photo. I sort of feel a little of relief when I see tears start to swim in her eyes and her bottom lip quivers. I don't know if I can watch something like this again.

"How come when we brought you first in here, you mentioned nothing of a relationship with Commander Kofi?" Puck grabs a chair and swings it around so it's backwards, his face right in hers as he asks the question. Quinn flinches away from him and I see the tear running down her cheek.

"It wasn't a relationship." She whispers out and I see Puck's thinking as he grabs his chair and moves to sit back in front of her at the table. Quinn doesn't respond to hostility and violence. She responds to words and questions.

"You know how bad this looks?" He murmurs, quietly, and the question is a lot softer this time. Puck never treats anyone like this, but Quinn's different. We all know that. I see Puck's eyes flicker to mine and it scares me that he knows exactly where I am in this two-way mirror room. We might have been brothers in a past life. We would have been in this life.

"He liked blondes." Sarah dyed her hair blonde and I've completely forgotten that I had identified the man that killed Sarah was Kofi to Puck, so I don't know if he'd connect the dots. They all know that a man of that description and that name held me. Puck knows. I can see it boiling in his face the connection between Kofi and Quin and me and… "He already had one there… he had no name for her and she didn't say what her name was. I tried to get her to come with me, but she wasn't there anymore. _Mentally._" I see Puck's eyes narrow and I'm trying to figure out what he's thinking. Oh fuck… he's not thinking what I think he's thinking.

"So during the day he would… do things to me and then during the night…" Puck stands up then and grabs his wallet from his back pocket. He fishes something out of it before he slams it down onto the table. It's a picture. Of Sarah. Oh fuck.

"That's her." Quinn whispers and before I know it he's left the room and come straight for me. It was a blur from that moment in, I was suddenly up against the wall and then I was on the floor, Puck hurling punches and screaming things at me that I didn't understand since he'd thrown me against a bookshelf and my ears were ringing.

I just took it, because I deserved it. I deserved every punch to the head, every blow to the stomach and as I felt my wound on my thigh being reopened all I could think about was the last year of hell Sarah had been in. What had I done? I don't realise Puck's shouts are actually words until he slams my head against the floor and I look up at him. I feel the blood trickle out of my nose… my mouth... and I just look up at him. Puck and I are filled with fury, with so much anger because of something that happened to someone so close to us that we both could never control it. Puck and I used to fight often, just to get it out of our systems. But now, as I'm staring at Puck, that fury and pain never left. It still was in his system, swirling in his veins and my guess is that it would never leave, until he had answers about Sarah.

"I thought she died, Puck." I whisper and Puck's grip on my shirt grows tighter, his eyes are filling with tears and mine are already spilling them.

"Well they made her a fucking whore and that's because you left her behind!" The next hit he lands me sends me into unconsciousness for a few moments and all I can see is black and white. Maybe Sarah, I'm not sure.

"Get off him, you're gonna kill him." I wake and suddenly Finn and Chang have their arms around me, lifting me. I can't feel anything and I can hear my feet dragging across the floor, but I see Quinn, her eyes full of concern as she makes her way to me.

I get laid down somewhere, probably in the medical quarters as people rid of my clothing and patch me up. I just felt like a broken heap of bones and flesh. My eyes finally focus and they land on Quinn, who is tending to the cut on my forehead.

"I listened to her die…" I mumble out and Quinn looks down at me, her face filled with concern as she rubs my chest gently. I can't keep crying. I can't. I gave up on Sarah, I didn't check, I didn't believe that she could still be alive, but there as I look into Quinn's eyes she knows she's alive.

"It isn't your fault." Quinn whispers and I look away from her. I feel absolutely fucking guilty that Sarah who I'm sure loved me, might still love me. That she's waiting for me, her shining knight, to come rescue her. What am I doing? Thinking about Quinn non-stop. I decide to settle for unconsciousness than this mess, passing out soon after.

* * *

"He doesn't deserve to be in this unit!" I wake to Puck shouting and to no surprise, it must be about me, but I don't blame him.

"Sergeant, if this was any other unit you'd be sent back to Fort Bragg with disciplinary action, be grateful _you_ are still here." It's Captain Schuester and he actually sounds less of a dick than he usually is.

"He left a man behind."

"The report I read, he _listened_ to her die, Puckerman. Thank fuck, it wasn't you in there."

"I would have killed the bastard, not fucking run."

"After two months of torture?" I roll over, trying to block the voices out but the compound is so tiny you can hear anyone talking from any point in the building. Then I feel a soft hand land on my shoulder and I glance up, expecting to find Puck standing over me with his fist, but it's Quinn. She's holding out what smells like to be soup and I sit up slowly, letting her help me.

"I can go tell them to quiet down…" Quinn whispers as she sets the tray on my lap and I shake my head, picking up the spoon. I glance up to see Quinn dressed in a blue button down long sleeved shirt and white jeans. She has her hair up in a mesy bun but the strands falling around her face almost make me smile. Just looking at her kind of makes me feel ten times better.

"I've heard it all before." I mumble before taking a spoonful of the soup and I raise my eyebrows as I glance at her. It's probably the best thing I've ever tasted and I know it definitely didn't come from our cook. Quinn let's out a soft laugh.

"I cooked it."  
"It's amazing." She smiles, but it doesn't reach her eyes. I look away from her and I know what she's going to say next, but it won't mean a god dam thing.

"Sam… everyone knows you're still a hero."  
"I'm not a fucking hero." I mutter and I feel her hand grip my arm, making me look up at her.

"You're my hero." I inhale at her words and I have the urge to kiss her again, but an image of Sarah pops into my head. I turn away, feeling guilty again.

"What was that?" I shake my head and continue to eat, her eyes to painfully on me. There were many things Quinn was and one of them was definitely her potent eye for detail. "Sam…"  
"How can I sit here and have… feelings for you, when Sarah is off probably hoping I'll come back for her." Quinn's next to me in an instant and takes the tray away from me. She has her hand on my shoulder and the other one is gripping my hand, giving it the gentlest of squeezes.

"Sam, you're allowed to feel the way you feel, so don't feel guilty about it. You don't know what Sarah is thinking or feeling, but I _know _you and the other guys here can save her. Just like how you saved me." I glance up at her and I don't know what to say. "If she still loves you and you still love her, I will never get in the way of that."

I can see the hurt in her eyes when she says it, but the thought of loving Sarah again makes me scared. The feeling that I might love Sarah again? I don't know.

"Can you love two people at once?" I whisper and Quinn doesn't even flinch at the question, she just shrugs one shoulder and gives my shoulder a squeeze.

"Maybe… who knows."

Silence falls over us then and I know Quinn has a million questions, but she thankfully knows not to prod at me. It's kind of amazing how well she knows me at the moment.

"Fucker." I glance up and Puck is staring at me from the hallway. I can see the anger in his eyes, but I know there's a sort of an apology in his eyes. I know he'll never say it though. Can't blame him. "We're getting a game plan together. Turn this fucker inside out. You in, blondies?"

I stand and hold my hand out. After a few hesitant moments he takes it and I shake it. His grip is tight and firm, friendly, but asserting dominance.

"Hoorah."


End file.
